


Strange Sight: A new kind of wonder.

by godrics_quill22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Annoyance, Companionship, Drama, F/M, General, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Magic, Pain, Post War, Potions, Romance Drama, Stress, Tension, age gap, cold treatment, i'll add as i go - Freeform, know-it-all!Hermione, older/younger relationship, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godrics_quill22/pseuds/godrics_quill22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a strange sight, a comforting truth after her years of searching and he wasn't going to get rid of her that easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From New York to London.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a storyline I wanted to Roleplay years ago but there are hardly any decent Snapes out there so I've decided to write it on my onesy. Updates will take long since I'm in the middle of other projects but I'll try.

Three years, that's how long it has been. Three whole years after the war at Hogwarts and 1 and a half of being in Wizarding College in New York.

Three years ago had been a turning point in her life, a point which was to shape how she was going to spend the rest of her life because in that moment of fear, she had altered her parents' memories to keep them safe. It was the only thing she could think of that was a little legal and had a chance of protecting them from the death eaters and Voldemort himself.

Three years ago, cleverness hadn't really helped her at all. She had made her parents forget without knowing the spell to be used to counter it. She didn't know the counterspell then, and she still doesn't know it. The worst part of the entire experience was the fact that she only needed to touch her wand to start having flashbacks about the war. Ugly flashbacks.

She did it that way not because they were muggles, but because they were her parents. Yes, they would've most certainly not gone along with her plan, as no sane parents would've (the Weasleys, being members of the Order, were a very different case), and even if they had somehow found the inner resolve to leave without her, living in Australia would've been a torment. She went for the  
most merciful way. -At least that was what she told herself- 

There was no way they were going to be safe in England. The Death Eaters didn't harass the Weasleys solely because they thought Ron was at home, sick, and the very moment the charade was exposed, the whole family went into hiding! Yes, she knew now that there were other options out there that she should have considered beforehand and she tried to remind herself daily that no wizarding home in England was safe, especially for Muggles who could not apparate. Even Grimmauld Place had eventually been compromised.

Death Eaters were attacking muggles at random when this was going on. Every single muggle, connected to the wizard world or not, was in extreme danger of casual torture and death, and given that she was wanted, it was more than likely that they even faced the same dangers that the Dursleys faced. 

She needed to get her parents out of that danger, which they likely would have refused to do while she was at such risk. So she made them get off the entire continent since Voldemort was only a threat in Europe, change their names so they wouldn't be tracked down by magical or mundane means (Which surely the Ministry would try to do for any wanted criminals), and not accidentally slip up and put themselves in danger with a slip of the tongue, or have their minds casually read by any Australian wizards that might have any Death Eater sympathies, plus it kept them from the torment of worrying about their daughter that they'd raised for seventeen years. They could enjoy their safety in their own comfort. 

Hiding at home was a no no then because of the possibility of them being hunted and tortured for her whereabouts even if she kept them under the fidelis curse. They possibly wouldn't have been totally safe in Australia either but on her part, she was under the impression that she very well could die while on this mission, and didn't want her parents sitting at home or in Australia waiting to figure out their only child is dead. If she did happen to die, they would be able to live normal lives. 

If she didn't, then she said that she would go find them again and reverse the charm and deal with the wrath of her parents because she knew, she understood, that no decent parent would accept the proposal and leave their daughter alone at  
war, but in this case, that clearly isn't the sensible decision to make. 

They'd have been acting out of parental love and obligation, and she had to make a choice against theirs out of filial love and obligation. She believed it's the right thing to do by her parents and how did she know? Because it broke her heart. 

They would never have agreed to her getting involved in the war and at that point, she didn't have a choice about getting involved in the war: she was a known Muggleborn, a known associate of Harry Potter, and known to have actively fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the past. The bad guys aren't going to stop hunting her just because her parents  
don't want her involved; her parents' only options are to remain in England and wind up as hostages for her surrender, or to bow to necessity and let her place them  
somewhere safe, the only way she can. 

She hadn't told them either because they would have insisted all three of them left for Australia but she knew she could not except that, since she needed to help Harry and she realized they could be very juicy collateral damage if she was found because in addition to being muggles and relatives of an "enemy of the state", they also produced a Muggle-born. 

In Death Eater philosophy, they are responsible for an abomination that should not exist and it wouldn't be surprising if the crazier Death Eaters wanted to kill all of the parents of Muggle-borns, just to be sure that they are stamped out.

The thought that the Death Eaters might torture her parents for her whereabouts so she only had three options then:  
1\. She either stays and betrays Harry and is killed, possibly with her parents dying because Bella tortures Muggles For the Lulz; 

2\. The Trio attempt a rescue, which gives away their location and puts all three at risk of capture and torture;

3\. Nothing is done, meaning that she is responsible for the deaths of her parents.

Yet here she was, three years after, without a counter spell and a fast growing fear in her heart that the spell could well be permanent now. She wasn't healing. None of them were. Harry and Ron had decided to enter into the auror training program the next year instead of taking the opportunity McGonagall had given them to go back to school and finish their studies. 

Many didn't understand their decision to do that but she did. It was kind of hard to go back to a rules directed school when you have been in the real world. A world filled with danger, where every step you took could determine whether you live for the next hour or not. 

But she had gone back. She had needed to. Not because she loved learning -like most people assumed- or that she wanted to forget or because it was a part of the whole psycholoigical process of her healing, no. But because she needed answers and she needed them urgently.

However the more time she spent with people in authority, Goblins, witches, wizards, aurors, werewolves, centaurs, giants and half giants, the more the realization sunk in that some things even a war hero can't have.

Things like nonexistent counter spells. Her only escape from her own constant guilt tripping was of Harry's words to her on that day when she left for the university.

Dressed in his auror trainee robes, Harry had just grabbed her shoulders firmly and commanded her gaze to his. "You need to stop blaming yourself, Mione. And you need to start believing that at the right time, the universe reassembles our lives again. Trust me I know. It may take years but it eventually happens. You were seventeen years old, belonging to another world opposite of your family while the wizard equivalent of Hitler has just come to full power and is targeting muggle- inclined people. That's right, it's not just you who's in danger, but because you are just as integral to stopping him, your family was just as much of a target. Safehouses are dangerous and they can't protect themselves in the wizarding world, they OBVIOUSLY wouldn't  
want you to participate in this war, and you know they'll be sick with worry and heartbreak if there's a chance they'll never see you again. You could have taken the selfish option and not try to make sure they stay safe, but you took the selfless option and erased their memories of you and ship them off safely from the claws of Voldemort. You might have some explaining to do when you do fix their memories so stop worrying so much and focus on your speech for that day alright?" 

She couldn't help but nod and smile at Harry's attempts to cheer her up even as the boy leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

She was also aware that the others were not pleased by her tactics but she had appreciated it greatly when none of them stopped to angst her about stooping to such means. Perhaps because in as much as they weren't sure about it in that moment, intrinsically, they knew they were at war. The three of them were enlisted, the Weasleys were as well, but the Grangers were not - they were civilians. And civilians have no say in their safety at war.

Hermione snapped out of her mental haze when she saw movement from her peripheral and waved at one of the students as she passed, her books finally feeling heavy in her hands. She had no one to blame for that but herself. 

What’s the essence of going on to   
Wizarding College if you don’t want to use magic for anything? The truth of the matter was, even though it’s been three years after the war, she still had flashbacks whenever she picked up her wand and those flashbacks were very selective and particular.

 

It was never about how many people had survived that dark time but always about how many casualties had been recorded. She wanted to obliviate herself so she’d forget everything that had to do with their seventh year but therein lays the problem:

 

If she does obliviate her 7th year and substitutes her eighth year for that, she’d have to answer too many questions. Like how come Ron and Harry are not in school and have rather decided to join the Auror Training Academy, what happened to Voldemort, why Fred was dead. . . Everything!

Eighth year had passed by quickly enough and to be honest, she had no idea of half the things that had happened. Somehow, she had become dependent on the boys and it was quite hard to be independent from them but she had something still worth fighting for and that was exactly what she intended to do. 

Fight.

The only way she knew how to.

After coming to the conclusion that the counterspell did not exist, she decided to try a different angle.

Making the spell from scratch and all her life, she only knew of one confirmed man who did that but ithout Snape to help her, begrudgingly, and no familiar people to turn to, not to mention the fact that she had torn every library in wizarding London apart just to find the spell and came out void, she had taken the only route that held potential.

She had gone to college and for the past   
year and half, working her butt off in extra time, trying to not only pass her classes but to also find that counter curse. She had no idea where to turn anymore but both Harry and Ron had promised to study diligently in order to pass their Auror examinations, hoping that they’d have access to this kind of information. 

She loved them and she was grateful to them but after the futile efforts in London and New York, she grabbed her wand, looking down at the packed suitcase on her bed. Maybe she would be back but she greatly doubted that. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if her parents died with the knowledge that they were alone in this world. She was their only family and that’s what family did for each other.

Besides, she missed them. She missed her mom’s playful glare and how her father would squeeze her shoulder in gentle support even when he had no idea what was going on. 

Occassionally she caught herself on the brink of tears but she blinked repeatedly till they were gone. There was no need for tears. Only the weak cry and she wasn't one. Besides, no one ever achieved anything this great by crying. She wanted to be back in her parents’ arms and that’s where she will be. 

No matter the cost.

She snapped her suitcase shut and picked up her wand to cast a simple shrinking spell on it, picking up the pocket-sized case and putting it into her pocket. She wasn't sure if she'll be back in school again and honestly, she wasn't worried about that. Her only thought was getting someone to create that spell for her. 

Armed with only her wand and a piece of paper with two names on it, she did her first disapparition in years. Her first stop was the house in Australia where her parents lived. Her mom was the only one at home and she was crouched in the dirt, wearing large red gloves as she pruned and picked flowers.

Did it hurt that she seemed happy even in her absense, it did. However she also undertood that all of that was her fault. A mistake she intended to rectify as soon as possible.

And so the hunt started. From motel to motel she moved, disapparating and apparating in different countries and different cities. She had started the list with just two names and it had sort of mutated. She assumed it was because of her desperation that seemed to get across to them.

So here she was back in London and standing on the street across the road while she stared at the obvious   
rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses which were visible even through the darkness, more than 6 months later, after jumping all around the world in search for someone who could help her. Her last stop had been in Africa where after prodding, the man had told her something that shocked her beyond measure. She didn't believe it but at this point, that was the only hope she had.

Taking a deep breath and letting it go shakily, she raised her wand and with a flick of her wrist, started aiming spells at the general direction of the house. 

There was no light in the entire neighborhood and it was a picture of solitude and abandonment but she was tired. Tired of running to something that danced close enough then flittered out of her reach when she thought she already had it. So many times she had come close to finding the spell but most of the wizards she met with were into a different kind of magic. She didn't want to use her parents as guinea pigs but here she was, at her wits end and shooting spells at an obviously uninhabitted house.


	2. Normalcy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Hermione moves in.

Chapter 2 - Normalcy.

After several minutes of aiming spells at it, Hermione made her way across the street to the house on Spinner's end. The spells had meant to startle the house but not bring it down. She had thought if Snape was in there like that wizard in Kenya had told her, then he would at least put up a fight of sort to protect his house.

She had almost turned on her heel and disapparated somewhere she could spend the night at, but deciding the indoors of the house couldn't be so bad, and wanting to save some money, she decided to spend the night in the house. Her shoulders were slumped and her steps unsteady as she walked to the door and not feeling like she was invading anyone's privacy, she cast a simple alohomora spell on the door and smiled when it creaked open. No sooner had she opened the door than there was a blinding light that came suddenly and before she could even register it, she was hexed, slipping unconsciously to the floor.

\----------

He had figured that sooner or later, someone was going to find him because he had to face it, He is Severus Snape and nothing went right for him. To be completely honest, he had expected Harry Potter to be the one to find him because of his habit of feeling obliged to people and his general nosiness. To Harry Potter, the world was always black and white and a glimpse into the gray area had been a surprise.

Of course he should have known that the muggleborn know it all could also be the one. She was always the brains of that trio and she was bound to start digging up something at some point. He had kept himself well hidden though, in spite of all these realizations.

Three years ago, he had managed to find his wand after Harry had left him. It was years of being put under the cruciatus spell that schooled him in the control of his pulse and breathing. It was a typical situation of swimmers being able to hold their breaths underwater for longer periods because they've had practice doing it.

So he had realized he may still have a chance at survival and had taken it whole-heartedly. Immediately the boy was gone, he had grappled around for his wand from where it had rolled off when Nagini attacked him and cast a few healing spells, glamoured himself long enough to get to the school gates and disapparated from Hogwarts to Spinner's end.

Of course that had only worsened his injuries as the apparation had caused more tear and wear around his neck tissue and the poison had spread so far in by the time he haphazzardly cast the spells that, he had had to slump into a chair for a long while to keep himself from falling. 

Writhing in pain, he had conjured a rickety broomstick from one of the corners of the room and broke off the bristles to use the stick itself as a supporting tool.

He still did. His limp hadn't gone away with time even after the numerous potions and spells he had used and neither had the nasty scar on his neck. He had managed to float Hermione's limp form over to a sofa, waiting for her to wake up while he remained hidden in the shadows of the dark room. 

He made it a point to minimize the use of magic in the house because at anytime, he could be traced and found out yet here he was; In one day he had used more magic than he had in the past three years and he wasn't feeling thrilled about it.

Back pressed to the wall, both of his hands clasped in front of him on his walking stick, he tapped his foot ominously when he heard stirrings coming from the sofa where she was sleeping.

Everything felt bad. Everything smelled bad. She didn't quite place where she was and she honestly didn't care. Her thoughts were suddenly on how she had failed her parents and of what she could possibly do now that there was no hope of creating a counter spell for them. It took a while for her to actually realize where she was, causing her to bolt upright.

Her last memory was of being hit by a spell. She scrambled for her wand but before she could reach it, she heard the unmistakeable voice of Severus Snape, a little husky but definitely his. "So you're finally awake."

A part of her wanted to scream from the shock. The other part of her wanted to jump and thank her stars because he was alive and that meant some hope but she maintained her cool. "You're supposed to be dead. We all thought you were dead. Harry was there when you breathed your last."

"And yet my corpse miraculously evaporated." There was a dry sarcasm to his tone.

"Hey, you can't be that way with me. This is the wizarding world and people's bodies disappear all the time. How many people have been assumed dead since 1950? And you. . . There was an eye witness. Hell, Ron and I were there too so yes, you were quite dead to all of us but obviously, you've been hiding away in your old house, lurking like a spider." She didn't know why she was saying the things she was saying but she knew it felt damn good to be able to say it without fear of detention.

Snape had to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping at her but simply shrugged even though the act was hidden by the darkness. "I suppose you aren't as smart as you would like everyone to believe." It was a low blow and he didn't wait for her to reply before he cut in again. "What are you doing here?"

Her attack died in her throat and she gulped loudly. "Well, for starters, I would like to fall asleep somewhere decent."

"There are motels in the surrounding neighborhoods. You should get one and spend the night then. Hopefully, tomorrow I can wake up and believe this encounter to be a bad dream."

She didn't understand why his voice was husky or the lazy way in which he spoke. There was still that sophisticated way to it, the overpronunciation and stressing of words. "B-bad dream? *I'm* the b-the bad. . . Anyway, I'm too tired to argue with anyone right now. I've not had a good night sleep in years and right now I really. . ." Her words trailed aff as she slumped back into the sofa then reached for her wand to cast a lumos spell only to feel herself being disarmed.

It happened too fast and she was left with a feeling of whiplash. "There has been enough use of magic in this house tonight. You shall tell me why you're here, how you found me and then I shall decide whether or not to allow you stay in my house. Gran-? Are asleep?" The man almost stomped his foot in frustration.

He did realize that in that position, she could wake up with a kink in her neck but he had meant what he had said. There has been too much use of magic in the house for one night. That was pushing his luck and honestly, he's run out of the good stuff three years ago. Wobbling, he made his way slowly up and down the staircase and brought an old blanket for her, spreading it around her shoulders and pulling back instantly when she started to snuggle under them.

He knew how cold the weather got during the evening time because of that dirty river that passes the back of the house and after ensuring that all windows and shutters were locked, he made his way slowly upstairs. He wasn't God but he knew something was wrong somewhere in her universe. -Not that he cared.

When he usually imagined -very rarely- how everyone he knew would be faring by now, he saw happy faces full of smiles. Occassionally, he thought how some of them may have left over scars from their personal loss and at the top of that list was Potter. He pitied the boy his grief and occassionally when he caught a glimpse of a newspaper, he saw the fatigue that was still etched onto his young features.

Perhaps Harry was not the only one who was realizing that the pain and stress does not end with Voldemort's death. Perhaps Granger was at that piont too and the part of him that did not want to be found wanted to wake her up and send her away with an obliviatus curse but he hasn't been cold to anyone in a very long time and perhaps he was losing his touch.

He diverted his course from his bedroom to his potions lab. There was no way he was going to fall asleep tonight anyway with all the anxiety strumming through his system.

\--------------------

When she woke up, it was to a dingy-looking room, filled with dusk and. . .books! This time it didn't take her long to remember what had happened the previous night. She was in Snape's house and the man was alive. Her natural inquisitiveness perked up. She walked to the window, pulling the blanket she didn't recall putting around herself the previous night closer around her. There was a chill in the air even though it was obviously late morning. She wondered where he was.

She wondered about a lot of things, really. Why did he make everyone believe him dead? Why was this house so dirty? What did he mean last night when he said that there has been enough usage of magic in the house? How is he even alive?

"It's good you're awake now. You can leave now that you found out what you came for." Snape said from behind her and caused her to jump. She hated it. She hated that after all this time, he only had to speak to her like a kid to make a feel like a kid.

Steeling herself, her chin lifted high in an obvious act of defiance that was most likely to come back and bite her in the ass. "And what makes you think that I have what I came here for?"

He was taken aback by her question, a frown forming on his brows as he shuffled a step closer, forgetting for a moment why he had stayed in the shadows. He saw the shock reflected on her features and realized what he had done. He must look a real mess. "Do you have your answer now?" He said instead when he forgot momentarily what he had been about to say.

"No." She deadpanned, deciding in a split second that she was going to hold out on telling him about the favor she wanted to ask. Her tone softened considerably as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you find it hard to move around? No don't answer that. It's a syupid question. Of course you do. Why is this place a mess? You could fix it with a wave of your wand."

"I like it the way it is." And he really couldn't believe that he was allowing her to interrogate him in his own house and he was not even as angry as he should be.

"Where is my wand?" She asked, diverting her train of interrogations when she realized on what dangerous grounds she was threading. 

Reaching into his right pocket, he pulled out the 10¾" long, vine wood with a dragon heartstring core wand and threw it at her, which she effortlessly caught.

She made to flick her wand around and once again found herself disarmed. It was happening too often that she would like, to be honest. "Which part of you not using magic in here don't you get?" His tone was stone cold again, realizing how she irritated him all those years ago with her strongheadedness and know it all attitude. "This is my house and I want you out of it by the time I return downstairs." Slowly, he wheeled on his heel and started the torturing slow process of getting upstairs -god, he missed being able to stalk off with flair.

"I can't. Leave, I mean." Hermione whispered, turning around and away from the look she knew was coming. "No one knows I'm here in London. I'm supposed to be in New York. A college there called the Warlocks, but I needed to come back here. . . anywhere. I just had to do something. I don't know why I'm telling you this but I need you to understand that if you don't want anyone to know you're alive, I won't tell them. If you're afraid -or worried-" She corrected herself quickly. ". . . of someone else knowing you're here, I won't be the one to give you away. I need somewhere to stay and someone is bound to recognize me if I go into town. This is not me imposing my will on you. . ." She turned around then to face him. ". . . This is me begging you to let me stay here for a while. I promise to be on my best behaviour."

Inwardly, he sighed then without a word, he resumed his slow climb up the stairs. He really was becoming a softie. She didn't know what to interpret that as, but being the optimist she had learned to be, she reached into her pocket and cast an enlargement spell on her suitcase before dragging it upstairs after him. Snape was really going to kill her soon, she had no doubt.

She still had the bad flashbacks when she held her wand but over the last six months, armed with nothing but her wand, she had learned to befriend her demons. She woke up with them and acknowledged their presence because she figured she had absolutely no choice on the matter. "Uhm. . . Where should I put this?" She asked somberly, standing in the doorway of his lab.

Without looking up from what he was doing, Snape pointed to his left and added. "Last door." 

She nodded obediently and headed to the door he had indicated. As expected, it was as dusty as the rest of the house and she spent a few minutes soaking in her new environment then wrapped a scarf on her head before starting to clean up the room.

She hummed to herself as she worked because in spite of her mental and physical exhaustion, she was actually hopeful about something and no amount of foulness from him was going to bring her mood down. Oh no no. She was floating on cloud nine and she was unstoppable.

He heard her. Of course he did. It was oddly soothing to hear someone else for a while and he tried not to think too much about his -apparently- new roommate. She wasn't telling him something. He knew. He wasn't stupid. He also realized that she had wanted to tell him but had changed her mind when she had seen the condition he was in.

He thought he looked great but perhaps that was also one of the reasons why he stayed away from the rest of the world. They had the tendency of making all your efforts look and feel like nothing. He slowly set down his wooden spoon on the top of the counter. It's not like he could work on the potions now with her humming odd tunes into his ear. He heard movement and really, it startled him but after a while, he settled again. It was going to take a while for him to get used to her, and really he hoped by the time that "while" happened, she was out of his house.

He headed down after a few hours to get himself a meal only to nearly bump into her crouching form on the stairs. She was the picture of a 50's maid. Gathered dress, a scarf and a brush. "Eh what are you doing?"

"Cleaning." She answered easily then still in that position, turned to look up at him. He must be towering over her like a giant but she didn't seem fazed. Not in the slightest.

"I told you I liked it the way it is and I recall you telling me only a few hours ago that you would do what I wanted." 

 

"No one likes staying in dirty places, Professor. If you want the house to look uninhabitted, trust me the neighborhood alone gives off that feeling. The outside is bad enough to put away anyone's suspicions. I don't think living in such an environment is good for your health. In fact, I am more than certain that your full recovery depends on the neatness of this house. Unless of course you don't want to be fully healed." She replied, standing to her full height which was still a foot shorter.

He was too tired to argue with her. "Just don't shift anything from its original position. I do not have the strength to be stalking around searching for things." The man replied simply and continued down the stairs then seeming to have a humanity awakening, he added. "You must eat. I don't recall you eating anything this morning and there's food in the kitchen."

"Okay I'll clean up and make something for us to eat." She started to say only for him to cut in.

"I can cook for myself."

"And I don't doubt that but sometimes you actually need someone to do things for you when you're healing. Rest is essential."

This time, his brows quirked at her, his smirk doing well to hide his actual curiosity. "And I suppose you're studying healing in university?"

"Yes I am but everyone knows rest is important to the healing process. You're a renowned potionsmaster. Don't tell me this is news to you." She still had that snotty way of talking down her nose at even giants. He did admire her brains when he was a teacher and he wondered silently why it was such a surprise that she was still acting the way she used to.

There is absolutely no way Hermione Granger could get any worse than she currently was.

It kind of puts Voldemort's belief that muggleborns were the least on the chain into perspective. She was a pureblood at heart. Right down to talking with an air of superiority and having the uncanny ability to make even the smartest and most confident person feel very stupid. Not paying attention to her words, he made his way to the kitchen and started to make himself some gravy while she was upstairs freshening up.

When she walked in a few moments later, -her bath had obviously been hastened- she just gently nudged him away and stepped behind the pot to add the finishing spices to it. "Am I allowed to use a glamouring spell in here?" She asked when it seemed the man was not going to say anything.

"Do you need to hide from me that badly?" She wasn't sure if that was a hint of humor of if it was bland sarcasm instead.

"No. It would be stupid for me to beg you to let me stay here when I really just want to hide from you. I want to go into town."

"And *that's* not stupid." It wasn't a question and she didn't take it as one.

"No I'm going to get you supplies. Well, technically, I'm going to get supplies for both of us. I need soaps and girl stuff and you need. . . Well, I'm sure there is something that you need. I could get you muggle medicine or something just to improve your health a little."

"Ever the selfless one, are we?" This time, his sarcasm was unmistakeable.

"Oh no I'm not being selfless. I-" She had to cut herself off before she could tell him her reason for being there then instead she said. "Harry's my friend. If he found out by some other means that I helped you in even the minutest ways, he would be mighty grateful to me. So see? We all have our selfish sides."

He knew that was an outright lie and the way she went about the dishing of the food told him much more than she had intended for him to know. He was always an intuitionist and something didn't seem to fit into place. One thing was clear to him though. 

Hermione Granger was not here for a vacation on the outskirts. She was here for something more and for some reason, she thought he could give it to her.

\------------------

In the days that followed, Severus Snape resolved to stop worrying about what bombshell she had to drop and him and found himself getting much more anxious than he had been in his entire life. Of course Hermione just went about her activities like a chipmunk. Happy and content and singing all around his house. Which by the way, looked better and cleaner than he had ever seen it -even when he used to live in it with his parents- and her only explanation to her constant cheerful working habits was only a wistful response that her parents were human.

And then afterwards, she seemed to have curled up into herself.


End file.
